Elsewhere
by bellutrixlestrange
Summary: Elsewhere. The afterlife for those killed on Halloween. Elsewhere is both everywhere and nowhere. Elsewhere is different for every soul sent there. For some, it is exactly like their old lives; they go about their days, going to work, raising their children, not even realizing that they have died. For others, though . . . For others, Elsewhere is a nightmare. Mine was a nightmare.


**A/N:** Okay, so this fic is weird, plain and simple. It's unlike anything else I've ever written, and I don't really know what exactly possessed me to write this other than the fact that it is the middle of the night and it's October. To be honest, I'm not even sure if I like this fic. I'm not really expecting anyone else to like it either, but I wrote it so I'm going to post it.

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Halloween, the day of the year when the veil between life and death is at its thinnest. The day when the spirits of those long gone come out to play. One must always be careful not to get injured on this day; you never know what might be lurking, just waiting for a nice new human to possess. Dying on this day, though. . . Well, that's something you certainly want to avoid.

Everyone always wonders whether there is life after death. I can tell you that yes, there is life after death. Every spirit goes to Heaven or Hell, or whatever you wish to call it, save those who die on Halloween. You see, instead of passing on and going to what the living call the afterlife, they go Elsewhere.

Elsewhere is both everywhere and nowhere. Elsewhere is different for every soul sent there. For some, it is exactly like their old lives; they go about their days, going to work, raising their children, not even realizing that they have died. For others, though . . . For others, Elsewhere is a nightmare. It brings about their worst fears and monsters of unspeakable horror.

Unlike normal souls, the afterlife for those killed on Halloween is not decided by how good or evil they are. I have seen some of the most evil men in existence gain an almost heavenly Elsewhere, and I have seen innocent children cursed with and Elsewhere of hell. I wish I could choose what type of Elsewhere they received, but alas, that is not up to me. It is the job of Death to dictate the Elsewheres of humans. I've told him many times that he should give them the Elsewheres that they deserve, but he simply laughed in my face. Death is a cruel being. That much is obvious, I'm sure.

He made my Elsewhere, sculpted it out of my nightmares. I was forced for what seemed like an eternity to watch as my son died, over and over again. I watched as that jet of green light shot towards him, and rather than bouncing harmlessly off of him like it should have, it hit him straight-on, killing him instantly. I was forced to watch and listen as Lord Voldemort, that sick, twisted psychopath, laughed at my baby boy's body. I watched as he sneered down at my body, and heard him say that I died for nothing. I sacrificed myself for my child, and it was useless.

I was stuck in that nightmare for a decade, watching that scene on repeat. The world had changed into something unrecognizable when Death finally released me from my hell. Some days I wish I was still there. At east then I wouldn't have had to watch my son struggle through his life, struggle through a war that he had no business fighting in. I got to speak to him once. It was an awful day. My poor son had just watched a friend die. He watched as Voldemort was brought back using his own blood. He was then tortured by that murderous coward. But I got to see him. I got to talk to him, and he got to hear my voice. Then it was all ripped away, and I was forced back to Death's side.

I raged that day. I screamed and screamed at Death for hours. How dare he allow such a horrible man to escape his clutches? He laughed at me, told me I had no idea what I was talking about. He was angry when I taunted him and said that it was his own weakness that allowed Voldemort to elude him. I know now how wrong I was. It was Voldemort's insanity, not Death's weakness, that kept him from Death's hands.

When Death told me what Voldemort had done, how he had created his Horcruxes, I nearly vomited. I finally did vomit when he informed me with sick glee that Harry was one of them. He enjoyed torturing me with that little tidbit. He loves using my son against me. I hate him for it. I've told him as much. When I did, he simply laughed, placed a gentle kiss on my lips, and told me that he knows.

I got to speak to Harry again at the end of the second war, just before I was forced to watch him die. This time he did truly die, it wasn't just a nightmare. He came back, though. Death explained that due to the Horcrux in Harry's scar, Harry had been given a choice: pass on and go to the underworld, or return to his loved ones and finish off Voldemort. He chose to return, and I was happy to see him do it.

I cheered along with the living when Voldemort's body hit the ground. Death allowed me to speak with the monster for a moment before he was sent on. I told him that I hoped he got everything that he deserved when he reached Hell. It was nice to see the look of terror on his face when I told him what the afterlife would be like for him. It was even better to hear his screams as Death's minions dragged him off to meet his fate.

I kissed Death for the first time that day. He had kissed me many times before, of course, but this was the first time I ever initiated. I think I was almost as surprised as him when it happened. Our relationship changed after that. He was still cruel, of course, but his taunts were softer. He started showing a bit of affection. He doesn't try to hurt me anymore. He even let me visit James a few times. He never loosened his hold on me, though.

Sometimes he lets me greet souls as the come to the afterlife. I had the joy of speaking to my sister when she passed on. She was an old woman then, with a head full of gray hair, but she had kept her sour disposition from her youth. I escorted her to Hell myself, pushed her into the pit and listened to her scream as she fell. She deserved it for what she did to my son. I didn't bother with her husband. I let Death deal with him.

Everything was fine for so many years, and then it was Harry's turn. He died fighting in another war that should not have happened, killed by the grandchild of some low ranking Death Eater. It happened on Halloween, sixty years after James and I were killed. When I greeted him, he asked me what it was like here in the afterlife, what to expect. I told him I didn't know, that it was different for everybody. I lied. I knew exactly what Death had planned for his Elsewhere. I knew what nightmares waited there for him.

Death may love me, and he's told me so on multiple occasions, but he hates my son. I've never truly understood why, perhaps he hates that he has not been the main object of my attention since he plucked me from my Elsewhere. I suppose it doesn't really matter why. All that matters is that he condemned Harry to an afterlife of horror. I can't really fault Death for it, though; if someone were to try to take his attention from me, I would probably want them to suffer for it as well.

I haven't watched Harry, not since I took him into his Elsewhere. I can't bear to see him suffer, not after everything he went through when he was alive. What mother wants to watch as her child is endlessly ripped apart and stitched back together? I haven't asked Death to free him or to give him a new Elsewhere; I know it wouldn't do any good. Still, Harry's is not the worst that I've seen. Death is a cruel being, and he loves to make people suffer whether they deserve it or not. Most of the time he does it by making people relive the most traumatic moments of their lives, just as he did to me.

A hundred year have passed since I was released from Elsewhere and brought to Death's side. It has been an interested century, and despite the horrors that I have seen, I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world, not even Harry's freedom. You see, dear living one, as much as I love my son, I love Death just a bit more. Perhaps if you were here in my position, you would understand. Death is cruel, but he makes it impossible not to love him. Yes, I hate him as well, but my love for him, and his for me, far outweighs our hatred for each other. Maybe one day you'll be lucky enough to catch his attention. Keep it for too long, though, and you'll regret it.

Death may be cruel, but I am worse. So be careful on Halloween, little one. It is the day of the year when the veil between Life and Death is thinnest, the day when we spirits like to torment the living. Dying on Halloween sends you Elsewhere, and you wouldn't want to end up in an Elsewhere of my design.


End file.
